Dating.
The very word strikes fear into the depths of my being. Ye Gods, I’d rather have a root canal than a date.
Don’t get me wrong: it’s not like I want matchmakers and arranged marriages, and I don’t think the Shakers had it right. Everybody remember the Shakers? They made some nice furniture, but as a high school friend explained it to me, “They think sex is so dirty, the very fact you’re alive is obscene.” (That’s not exactly it but I like the way Cliff put it.) What I really like, and maybe this sounds like pie in the sky, is when you’re just going around being yourself, and somebody else is doing the same. You each get certain happy feelings when the other is around, and it goes from there, comfortably. This is easiest to do in group situations, maybe in school, or in a theater group, or while cattle rustling. Well, the first two have worked for me, and I have family in Texas.
Now, I see lots of evidence that there are people who go out on Dates (gulp), blind, or nearly—and I wonder, are they very brave, or do they drink a lot?
At the comedy clubs, sitting too close to the stage on a Date will get you razzed. “You two. First Date? Howdya meet? Think she puts out?”
You can try craigslist. You can find almost anything on craigslist. So while you’re looking for a gently used coffee table, why not try the personals? If nothing else, you’ll broaden your horizons. Amazing how some people want to spend an evening. (I mentioned that guy who likes feet a couple weeks ago.)
I keep getting SPAM from dating services:”Meet singles in your area for a large membership fee!” That seems to mean, pay money to read more ads from guys who like reading, movies, and long walks on the beach. Now, come on. Is there anyone who hates long walks on the beach? I mean, in general, not as in, “yes, I know this one beach covered in broken glass and medical waste, and you’d hate walking on it.” And the information about reading and movies is about as helpful as “I breathe air and digest food”. Great, this person is not actually illiterate and doesn’t have some phobia re. film projected on screens. It still doesn’t let me know, is there any chance I’m going one on one with a guy who has an autographed copy of Mein Kampf?
I also find it amazing that there are people who seem to have their minds completely made up about their perfect significant other, cause they put the shopping list out there for everyone to look at. How does anyone KNOW? Did this kind of person make you blissfully happy before? Well, why aren’t you still together, then? And if you’re sure you need a human who’s this exact height, this race, does this job, between X and Y age, looks good in black, makes a mean Denver omelet, who are you missing out on and what do these particular traits really matter anyhow? Well, your results may vary but I don’t think I’ve ever said, “I feel so close to Jim. He’s in the height range for it, that’s why I rely on him. You know we’ve been friends since college? I swear, if he were two inches taller this never would’ve happened.”
Seriously, here’s something I read: “He MUST be in his 50s, white, divorced or widowed, tall, handsome…If you are under 50, move on! Over 60 move on! Or if you are not Caucasian, move on!” (I’d just—move on.)
Also: “I’M HERE TO FIND A SPECIAL WOMAN In Sales, Marketing, or Promotions in (Cityname, Townberg, Localville).” Gotta wonder what he’s hoping for. Maybe he thinks they could go in the back and—do some inventory.
Here’s a very gentlemanly reply to a photo: “No disrespect, baby, but in your picture you look like you are taking a heavy dump.” Remember, he meant no disrespect.
Lastly, from my own life: a housemate (let’s call her Michelle, since that was actually her name) had a Date on her birthday and complained the next day that she hadn’t had a good time. She didn’t know why, though.
“He has the right kind of job. He drives a really nice car. We went out to dinner at (Chez La Dee Dah) and then he took me to (Big-Ass Arena to see hot band on tour). He spent a lot of money. He’s the kind of guy I should like. Why don’t I like him?”
“Hey, Michelle, what if you really liked this guy, he’s cute, he’s smart, he listens to you, but he drives a cab?”
Should’ve saved my strength and said, “Hey, Michelle, why not make some room in your closet by giving your designer jeans to the homeless?”
Yeah yeah yeah, Get thee to a nunnery, why doncha. Well, you don’t have to go on Dates there!
